Rules Of Three
by melodiouslynocturne
Summary: Relationships are just like everything else: they can't always go perfectly. Three Chapters, three pairings.
1. Zexion

I stood at the bar, deep bass pulsing through my hand and vibrating my glass. I glanced to the dance floor, uninterested but lacking another place to look. The sweaty club-goers grinded against each other, sharing their limitless energy the people beside them. _Frivolous,_ I thought, sitting down at a newly opened seat. I set the glass down and my head down next to it. Beads of condensation jumped down the glass, forming a subtle ring of water on the polished wooden surface of the bar. The couple to the right muttered 'I love yous' and 'forevers' to each other. To my left were a group of men roughly my age taking shots for winning whatever sporting event they had just won.

I sighed. Had I not promised to meet my cousin here, I would be in my dorm, studying to the midterms I had in a few days, drowning out my annoying roommate and his girlfriend with the sounds of the Indie Top 40s of the week. Not something I wanted to be doing per say, but far more practical than sitting here for going on at least 20 minutes. Hell, if I really wanted to I could leave, and she would be none the wiser. _Sorry,_ I imagined. _I forgot we were meeting. Another time?_ I chuckled to myself. She wasn't necessarily the smartest of the people I knew, and I would definitely get away with that.

Tilting the short glass to my mouth, my glanced at my watch. Quarter to 9. She was a half hour late, and if I left now, I might just have enough time to read a few pages before my roommate's twice weekly romp started. The now empty glass was settled on the bar and I was half way out the door before my name was called. I stalled, debating the potential option of pretending I hadn't heard it at all when a hand clamped onto my shoulder and spun me into a hug.

"Zexy! It's so good to see you again!" The girl shouted over the loud music.

Grudgingly, I hugged her back. "You know I hate being called that, Eleri."

"Yeah, whatever." She said, dragging me over to the bar. She forced me to sit and leaned against the bar, shoving a man out of the way to do so. "How're you doing cos? It's like you've been ignoring me!"

_I have been ignoring you,_ I thought. "I'm good. You know I've been super busy. How are you?"

She sighed loudly. _Here we go._ "Absolutely amazing. Jacob bought me a dozen roses for our anniversary and had his frat sing to me as he gave me them." She gazed into space drearily, completely forgetting I was there. I slowly stood to leave but she snapped back to it. "So how's your love life? Met a nice girl yet?"

I sighed. My family all knew I was gay, yet they had decided I needed to find an nice, Catholic girl and I would realize how wrong I was. Right. It was in my best interest to pretend, as I so often did, that I was straight. Save us all the hassle. "Yeah, she's great. Well, at least my roommate says she is while they're fornicating." She looked at me with those big puppy dog eyes of hers. Clearly she misunderstood. "I'm not dating anyone. Don't have the time for it. My roommate, on the other hand, has a very healthy sex life."

She ordered us both martinis. "Don't talk like that! This is university! You have all the time you need and a campus full of women for you to pick from. Hey Laci!" She waved over me. I rolled my eyes; like every other family member, she was again going to attempt to set me up with a female friend of hers. The girl came over and they chatted for a few moments. "Zexy, this is Laci from my yoga class."

I reached my hand out to shake her hand. "Zexion. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She smiled, gap-toothed and all. "Hi. Eleri has told me a lot about you."

I tried to hide my eyes rolling. Really, I tried. "Did she tell you I was gay?" Her eyes widened slightly and she took a half-step backwards. "No? Sorry. I'm gay. See you later El." I stood up and pushed my way out of the claustrophobia of the club, ignoring her shouts for me to come back.

The air outside felt nice on my heated skin. The breeze cooled me down, calming my anger, massaging my tense shoulders.

"Get out of here, you drunk whore!" A burly voice came from the club entrance followed by laughter. I turned my head to see a body hit the ground. Against my better judgment, I jogged over to the body.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, tapping the shoulder.

The body turned and revealed a boy with a pretty bruised looking eye and a bloody nose. He laughed. "That was fun!"

"You were literally thrown out of a bar." I said disbelievingly, helping him to his feet. "What's your name?" He stopped laughing hard enough to hand me a sheet of paper.

_Hi. My name is Demyx. When I get pissed drunk and thrown out of a bar, please take me home. Room 604 Jakesby Hall. If I'm being stupid, call Marshall. 555-4211._

I looked back at the guy in front of me. Did he seriously need and escort home? I sighed, heaving one of his arms over my shoulder and started walking in the direction of the Hall. I pulled out my phone and called the number, Demyx throwing insults at anyone we passed. "Marshall? Hi. My name's Zexion. I'm bringing Demyx back to you."


	2. Sora

Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Months turn into years. Had someone told me in those first days that, years later, I'd be getting married, I'd never had believed them. Me, married? Sora, the famous sex god? The Adonis to the upperclassmen? It was shock enough falling in love and lasting more than two months. Three years? Really? If anyone had told me that, I'd never believe them. It's more improbable than anything I've heard of.

I finished my entry for the night and closed my laptop. Had time really moved that quickly? I leaned back in my desk, contemplating the very idea of marriage. It's scary. But something I'm ready to do. To do with him.

I stood up and stretched, cracking my shoulders into place. Then my neck, popping all the cracks out.

"You really shouldn't do that."

I turned and flashed Riku a smile. "I guess you'll have to get used to it."

He rolled his eyes and nodded for me to come over. "Mom and pop sent me an email. The orchard is ours if we want it for the… the big day."

I laughed, kissing him lightly. "Still can't say wedding?"

"You know this is a big thing, right?" Like me, Riku was somewhat of an Adonis. It made no sense to a lot of people that we even got together, let alone marriage. "The word is hard to say when you're talking about yourself."

"Marriage, marriage, marriage, marriage, marriage." I smirked, proving him wrong. Again, he rolled his eyes and closed his laptop and laid down, pulling me with him. "I love you."

He smiled. "I love you to, Sorbear." He said, rubbing my cheek delicately, his fingers curling around my hair. "I wouldn't have this any other way."

Red hot heat rushed up my face. "Neither would I. Mind you… I'd like if you were less attractive. Then I would get more jobs than you, because I'm better." I smiled, compensating for the blush.

"And I wish you weren't a model. I preferred not having money. Not that you make as much as me." He smirked. Friendly banter was something we introduced early into our relationship; we're both models and it takes most of the competitive edge off. Most. "Your prints from the Wonderland shoot came in."

"AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?" My eyes widened. The shoot was a couple weeks ago and it was a big one. There were some pretty, uh, sensitive shots in there too… He handed me the envelope from the bedside table and I shredded the top of it. Together we flipped through the stills, noting which were good, which were bad, who goofed the shot. You know, common model things to do.

Then we got to the compromising shot.

As the Mad Hatter, it was my duty to make Alice feel comfortable. Maybe I went a little further than necessary…

"You're not kissing her, are you?" Riku said, unable to keep the accusing tone off his deep voice.

I glanced at the ceiling. "No. Just very, very nearly." I had taken the girl, a newbie conveniently enough, and dropped her into a dip and dropped my face an inch from hers. If either of us wanted to, it would be damn well near effortless to close that gap. Alas.

Riku and I have an understanding: doesn't matter who we're working with or what the concept is, no sexual activity of any sort. It gets in the way, but it's fun to test each other's limits and see just exactly how close we can get to kissing, groping, grinding another, even more sexual in some shoots. It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

He nodded and took the shots from me. "No matter the case, you are mine, and mine alone."


	3. Roxas

It would be stupid of me to ignore the facts. Ignore the facts that yes, my relationship was falling apart. Yes, it had been for some time now. Yes, Axel was addicted to drugs. Yes, I wasn't doing anything about it. But what should I have done about it? I couldn't have fixed it, could I?

The common area was relatively quiet for this time of night. Usually there'd be people bustling around, talking loudly, studying, playing games. There could be upwards of 50 people here usually. Tonight there was me, and the resident crazy making weird horse noises in the corner. Aside from his very obvious distractions, there was no way I was going to get any of my studying for tomorrow's test done. Axel wasn't back yet.

Really, it was my fault he left. I'd yelled at him over something petty, probably of no importance anyways. And he left. Refused to say where he was going. Refused to say when he'd be back. Every time I tried calling, it would ring a few times and go straight to voicemail. He'd moved out of my room weeks ago, but I still felt the responsibility of making sure he got home alright, even if he didn't care about me anymore.

I wish I knew why our relationship was as horribly off as it was. In the beginning, it had been picture perfect. We had loved each other unconditionally, we had always been open about every thought and feeling, we had always been together. How did we go from that to crippling pain in the span of four months? Close friends had told me Axel was becoming obsessive, controlling. That I had become lax on my judgment, my ability to read people. That wasn't the case. At least, I didn't think it was.

Shouting came from down the hall. "It's not my fucking fault! Let me go, you fat pig!" I'll be damned if that was him. I stood and looked down the hall, seeing something that had come, unfortunately, rather common: Axel restrained by two police, a third walking towards me.

"Roxas."

"Paul." It was so common, I knew the campus police by first name. "What'd he do this time?"

He pulled the notebook from his utility belt. "B and e, theft under $1000, b and e, theft over $1000, robbery, carrying a concealed weapon, grand theft auto, driving under the influence, possession of an uncontrolled substance," Next page. "Possession of a controlled substance, public intoxication, attempted arson, disobeying curfew, withholding information, assault of an officer, and avoiding arrest."

I whistled. That was a longer list than usual. "How much does he owe?"

"Won't know until tomorrow. He's got a court date tomorrow at 9:30. Make sure he's there, sober and clean." He said, that look of disappointment in his eyes.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Boys?" He directed the officers to my room to put the screaming man. "Get him some help. He could use it."

I rolled my eyes. "I've been trying to get him to go. You know him. Have a good night."

The officers and I shook hands and they walked out the front door before I stalked back to my room. Oh, was he ever busted.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" He shouted as I walked in.

"Axel, calm down."

"WHAT THE FUCK-?!"

I wasn't letting him finish that. "What's wrong with you? Seventeen counts against you? Really? REALLY?"

"IT WASN'T MY FUCKING FAULT!" He screamed in my face, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"Sure, Axel. Sure it wasn't." I moved to my desk and grabbed the handcuffs.

"No fucking way. NO FUCKING WAY!"

"You know the drill."

"FUCK YOU!" He shouted, spitting in my face.

I wiped it off and shoved him into my empty closet, handcuffing his hands to a bar along the edge. I duct taped thick gloves onto his hands. Donning my own set of rubber gloves, I carefully patted him down, taking away blades, cigarettes, lighters, a paperclip, some baggies of drugs, a pipe, a spoon, and a handful of needles. They went in a ziplock bag on my desk for his court date in the morning. I slammed the closet door shut, not speaking a word to his many loud outbursts.

In the bathroom, I sat in the far stall and cried. How did things get so bad?


End file.
